Brothers
by Coff
Summary: When Sirius was hit by that spell and thrown behind the veil, Harry was devastated. By what about Sirius? What happened after he was thrown behind the veil?


Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling

**Reunited.**  
He twists, he turns and he twirls, laughing as he dances. Though he is terrified for Harry, and furious that Voldemort has played such a card, he is, in a way, glad. No, more than glad, so very much more than glad. He is, for the first time in fifteen years, free, and the taste of this freedom is amazing.

Merlin, he hasn't even fought in a duel for fifteen years!

He dances away again, laughing at her, taunting her, and he has a sense of glee as he sees her furious face, her wild hair and her snarling mouth.

Bella always so easy to wind up, even when they were children.

He's not sad, or disappointed, or even upset that he's dueling his cousin, because as far as he's concerned, _she's_ not family, Merlin, none of them are. His family are his friends, Remus, James, and, of course, now Harry too.

That's why he's here, of course, so that he and Harry can be a proper family. He has fifteen odd years to make up for, but he just knows can do it. A reckless and absolutely wonderful thought strikes him: perhaps Harry can even become an animagus, then they could go on proper adventures, just like he, Prongs and Moony used to.

He chances a glance around the room, and sees a messy, black-haired figure dueling some distance away. He grins. He and Prongs dueling side by side, just as it always should have been.

But then he remembers that it's not really Prongs, but rather Prongs-Offspring; Little-Prongs.

They're really the same thing, he decided. Prongs and Little-Prongs.

Though of course, he thinks remorsefully, and just the slightest bit guiltily, Prongs isn't here anymore.

He ducks another beam of light, and another, and with each beam he ducks, he gets angrier and sadder, and guiltier. He's spent countless nights crying about this over a bottle of firewhiskey, but the regret never seems to go, the 'what if's' come more frequently, the more he drinks, and the 'I wish I'd…' seem to present themselves in all new inventive ways every time he remembers that one night…

And then suddenly, in a fit of what could be rage, guilt or sadness, he's fighting for James, and then for Lily, too, because she was just so lovely, and then everyone who died in the war, those he knew, and those he didn't, and then for Remus, too, because he's so unfairly a werewolf, and then for lost friendships, and lost lives, and lost anything, and then the fact that James didn't get more time with Lily, and the fact that neither of them got enough time with Harry, and that Harry didn't have any brothers or sisters, and the fact that he couldn't shag his way through his twenties, and the fact that because James and he weren't there to give advice, neither could Remus.

And for the fact that he still had to listen to the screaming of his bloody mother.

Suddenly, a stillness falls over the room, but he doesn't realise it's because Dumbledore has bound the rest of the Death Eaters together. Indeed, he believes it's because something inside of him as made him resolve to fight harder, to always keep fighting. As 

this resolve strengthens itself, a picture, a vision of James fills his mind, and strengthens the resolve even more.

He laughs at Bella, taunts her, because he knows that he was always the best, and he indeed feels invincible, just as he and James always were invincible, unbeatable. He ducks the beam of light, and then straightens, laughing, to grin triumphantly at her...

But the second hits him square in the chest.

And his last thought, though he does not know who it is in reference to, is, _sorry, I've let you down._

And then he's not conscious of anything anymore, not the anguished cries of Harry, nor the panicked voice of Remus, and not the sound of Bellatrix's feet upon the stone floor as she runs away.

After some time, he realises he can think, but each word seems to take an age to come, so that by the time the next word has formed, the previous has been forgotten.

Slowly - achingly slow, to Sirius - the words come faster and faster, and the previous ones do not disappear, but stay right where they were put when he first thought of them. Eventually, sentences, and coherent thought beyond 'what?' form, the most repeated, and indeed, the most important of which is, 'where am I?'

For in the time that it took for him to form this most important thought, he had become aware of a few hushed voices, and of the oddest feeling that he was lying upon something.

And so, with enormous effort, he opened his eyes.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back. Thought; his senses; _his memory_; everything.

He could see three people standing a few yards away, but he could not understand who they were, because he could not - _would not_ - believe that he _could_ see them.

The one in the middle, the one with glasses - _hadn't he just been dueling with him?_ - grinned at him, and opened his mouth to speak.

'Hello, Padfoot,' he said. 'Welcome to the afterlife, mate.'

And suddenly, with a remarkable flash of insight, Sirius understood. With a roar, he launched himself at James, hugging him fiercely, tightly, hysterically. Then he was hugging Lily, kissing her on the cheek, crying into her hair, and she was laughing and crying, and James was laughing and patting him on the back, and joking, 'hey mate, she's mine.'

He wasn't able to keep up with anything; it seemed that sometimes he was permanently attached to James, and at other times he was never going to let go of Lily, and then at other times, he was sandwiched between them both. James was talking, laughing, and shouting; telling him everything that had happened in the last fifteen years whilst at the same time saying he had so much to tell him. Lily was crying, laughing and dancing around, at times just jumping up at down, and at other times performing an impressive, graceful ballet. Sirius seemed like he couldn't stop crying once he had started, and was positively unable to let go of at least one of them for any amount of time.

After what felt like both a million years, and half a second, Lily peeled herself from 

Sirius, and Sirius turned to the third, previously unannounced member of the group. Lily and James, sensing the need for privacy, took a few steps back.

Sirius approached him apprehensively, cautiously.

And then, he finally understood. It didn't matter, anymore. He suddenly realised… and was finally willing to listen.

Face to face they stood, brother to brother. One face surprised; one face anxious. One silently begging for forgiveness, and, much more importantly, understanding and the other finally giving it.

And then they were embracing, and crying, and for the first time ever, they were not the rebellious firstborn and the secondborn trying to prove he was everything the firstborn should be, and neither were they divided by malicious parents bent on blood purity, but instead, and finally, they were brothers.

Brothers.

And they both knew, from the hug and from the unspoken things that had passed between them, and had somehow announced themselves to the world, that later, they would talk for a million years.

Lily, James, Sirius and Regulas walked off, arm in arm, and for the first time in a very, very long time, he was truly happy.

Because he was finally reunited with his true family.

**Please review - I would love tips! So please, please, please review. It's a little short, I know, and I sorry about that. I will more than likely come and tweak it at some point in the future - I can't seem to help myself in any case. And of course, thank you very much for reading **


End file.
